


A Wedding Before A War

by ReinaWritesStuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Marriage, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaWritesStuff/pseuds/ReinaWritesStuff
Summary: "He had long resigned himself to death once more. One final time. In a strange way, despite the emptiness he found in death, he’d almost felt that it was his purpose and he’d felt ready to die.But, not anymore. He wasn’t ready or willing to leave the woman in his arms behind."





	A Wedding Before A War

## Jon stood wordless in the doorway as Dany’s attendants finished lacing her into her newly-forged armor. 

It had more metal than the typical Northern armor, lined in extra fur and leather, and baring the Targaryen sigil on its chest. Her forearms and the fronts of her legs were also covered. It was Jon who had suggested – or rather insisted – that she have armor, as well. After they learned that the Night King had claimed Viserion into his army, no one was willing to take the risk. Even Dany, who had previously been opposed to fighting in something so heavy, agreed to it. Dragon back was no longer safe enough. He caught a glimpse of her expression as she examined the metal – a soft look but full of resolve if not a bit sad – before she noticed him.

“How does it fit,” he asked, turning the attention on himself.

“It fits well,” Dany replied, running her hands over the surface. “I cannot say that it’s very comfortable, though.”

“As long as you’re covered and still able to move, it’s safe. That’s what really matters.” Dany nodded in agreement. Jon looked to the attendants. “I’d like to speak to the queen alone.”

They obliged and left the room, closing the door behind them and leaving Jon and Dany to themselves. They stared at each other with strong exteriors, neither wanting to give away their fear.

“I’ve been thinking through strategies,” Dany said, as she began to unlace the armor on her forearms. “We can go through them with the council tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said plainly, not taking his eyes away from her.

“The Dothraki and the Unsullied are also preparing. Our armies will march out in two days.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll be ready by then.” She spoke with strength but a worried glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You have reinforced your armor as well, yes?”

“It is being worked on now.”

Dany quickly turned away from the mirror to face Jon again, appalled by his words.

“Being worked on? Why is it not already done? You have to be certain that it can hold. You need time to test it.”

“The smiths here have made plenty of armor. It will be fine. I know.”

“You don’t know that, Jon,” Dany insisted with growing anger. “This is war on a different scale. You said so yourself. Different than they’ve created armor for. You can’t rely on past skill for this. You need time to make sure that it holds up.”

“Dany,” he said, reaching out to grab her hand.

“No, I am absolutely serious, Jon. One faulty piece in your armor and you’re gone.”

Jon brought her closer, and her anger turned to sorrow. She hadn’t yet shed tears, not even for Viserion’s fate. She kept up a front of determination and fearlessness. But, inside, she yelled, she cried, she was angry and heartbroken. And Dany’s front had crumbled that night. Her distressed eyes bore through Jon.

“Your armor has to work,” she repeated her sentiment with desperation.“He has taken Viserion from me. He will not take you.”

She pressed her hand against his face, closing her eyes as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around her back, and his fingers clutched her securely. As he held her, Jon closed his eyes, as well, and thought a familiar thought. One he’d found himself thinking more with each passing day.

He had long resigned himself to death once more. One final time. In a strange way, despite the emptiness he found in death, he’d almost felt that it was his purpose and he’d felt ready to die.

But, not anymore. He wasn’t ready or willing to leave the woman in his arms behind. If he could have, he would’ve taken her away from it all. Gone off to some distant place, started a life and a family away from the war and death. Taken his siblings, too. Jon was weary and longed for simplicity and peace. With her. But, that was not an option. None of it was, especially not while the Night King’s army marched. There wasn’t the slightest guarantee that either of them would survive long enough for that life to even be in their futures. Jon kept that in his mind as he spoke.

“If I don’t survive…” Jon began.

“Shh,” Dany shook her head, running her hand down his cheek.

“If I don’t survive, if anything happened to either of us, I’ll have one regret that I’d carry with me always.” He pulled back opening his eyes to hers before speaking. “It would be that I found you too late. That I wasn’t able to grow old with you at my side.”

“We are not dead yet,” Dany responded with tears welling up in her eyes.

“No, we’re not,” Jon agreed, “And, I don’t want to have wasted any time we may have left here. We might not grow old. I don’t know. But, even if we only have days together, I’ll take them.”

“What are you saying, Jon?”

“If I die as your husband, I’ll die in peace. If you’ll have me.”

Dany searched his face for signs that it was a poorly-timed joke. But, there was only seriousness and anticipation as he waited for her response.

“When could we?” Dany asked in confusion.

“We could be wed tomorrow. Something small, if you want.” Jon looked in her eyes reassuringly, sensing her hesitation. “I don’t want to push you into this. If you say no, I’ll still love you the same. I swear it.”

“We’re mad for this. A wedding before a war. Tyrion will have words for us, I’m certain. But, he always has words, doesn’t he? It’s our words that matter most.” Dany interlaced their fingers together. “Days or years. I’ll take them, too.”

“Your answer is yes then?”

“Yes,” she smiled, kissing his lips. He wrapped her in his arms so tightly he nearly lifted her off the ground.

They gathered those closest to them together and told them of their plans. As expected, Tyrion was wary of their wishes, urging them to revisit the topic after the army of the dead was gone. But, he backed down when he realized that he would not convince them otherwise. Not when death was at their doorstep.

 The Starks, to Jon’s surprise, were more more receptive. It had been too long since Winterfell had seen a joyful wedding, Sansa thought. Although she also questioned the timing, she still found herself eager to help with it. Arya never cared much for weddings, but she hadn’t seen that genuine of a smile from Jon since they were young. Any woman who could bring that smile she loved so much back to him was already family as far as she was concerned.

After they convened, Jon pulled Sam aside. They had both been through enormous trials together. They would soon face their greatest one yet. In any setting, Jon had every bit of trust and confidence in Sam, and as such there was one thing he wanted him to do.

“Sam, would you officiate the ceremony?”

“Me?” Sam blinked rapidly in confusion. “Why would you want me to?”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else. And you’re one of the smartest men I know.”

“It’s just…traditionally, with Northern weddings, it’s a member of your household who performs it or someone who is like family to you.”

“Were we not brothers, Sam?” Jon smiled, placing his hand on Sam’s shoulder. After a moment, Sam sighed and returned the sentiment with a chuckle.

“It’ll be an honor, Jon,” he grinned, “I’ll have to brush up on the ceremony words and such. Make sure I get them right.”

“You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”

The two embraced, patting each other on the back. Everything was in place. Without any doubt and with nothing to hold them back, the wedding would happen.

That next night, a small crowd gathered at the heart tree. Night had fallen and the only light came from the lantern-lined aisle leading to the tree. Arya, Sansa, Bran. The small council. A handful of others. All stood waiting in the silence of the weirwood. Jon took his place at the end of the aisle and Ghost and Sam stood beside him. Even the dragons flew overhead in attendance. All that was missing was the bride and her Hand. They would not have to wait long for them.

Every gaze moved to Dany as she walked down the snowy path, accompanied by Tyrion. Her cloak was all white and thick with fur around the shoulders. The inside was lined with velvet in a deep crimson to mirror the Targaryen colors. Sansa had made it for her previously. The gown, meant for a coronation, was a dark scarlet with black, dragon designs embroidered along the sleeves, chest, and trim. Her hair was simpler than she would normally wear. Three braids ran back over the top of her head, pinned back by a dragon comb. The rest of her curls fell loosely down her back and over her shoulders. Jon took a deep, anxious breath as his eyes locked with hers. Dany and Tyrion finally stood before Jon and Sam, and Sam began to speak.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”

“Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen,” Tyrion said. He took a gulp before continuing. “First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men.”

Some guests in the small crowd began to look at each other, confusedly, wondering exactly how many titles she had. Even Dany stifled a smirk with Jon as Tyrion struggled to get through all of them. Missandei, standing in his eyeline, mouthed each title to him.

“Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains.” Tyrion paused for a bit, trying to remember which one he’d forgotten.

“And Mother of Dragons,” Missandei spoke up.

“And Mother of Dragons,” he repeated, “Of course. Um, comes here to be wed. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

Jon stepped forward confidently, but his hands briefly fidgeted with nerves.

“Jon… of House Stark.” He’d nearly caught himself saying Snow before correcting himself. He briefly glanced over at his siblings, who gave him an approving nod. “Warden of the North. Who gives her?”

“Tyrion of House Lannister. Hand of the Queen.”

“Queen Daenerys, Your Grace,” Sam said, “Will you take this man?”

“I take this man,” she responded with assurance, taking Jon’s hand in hers. They smiled at each other before they kissed deeply. It wasn’t a part of the ceremony, but no one dared to stop them. The two pulled apart, their faces still close together.

“So, that’s it?” Davos asked. “Is it done?”

“Yes,” Jon answered, smoothing his hand down Dany’s cheek, “It’s done.”

After the ceremony, the group of them gathered in the Great Hall. They ate and drank in celebration but never forgot the battle ahead of them. No one would outright say it, but it was likely the last time that all of them would be together again. So, they laughed and smiled with each other, creating peaceful memories they could hold onto. Jon peered lovingly at Dany next him, holding her hand securely. The rest of the room seemed to fade away.

“My wife,” he spoke softly, kissing her hand.

“And my husband,” she smiled back.

That night, they made love with vigor for the first time as husband and wife. Every bit of their desire and urgency to be together came through in their untamed passion. Their cries of pleasure echoed through the halls. Where they would normally attempt to keep themselves muffled, they no longer seemed to care.

Jon exasperatedly collapsed onto Dany’s dewey chest, listening to the sound of her quickly-beating heart. After catching their breaths, they moved to lie on their sides facing each other. Dany caressed his face, admiring the man she loved, getting lost in his soulful brown eyes. If the two of them could, they’d stay that way forever.

“Tomorrow, when the…”

“No,” Dany whispered, “Tonight. Right now. That’s all. Nothing else.”

“Tonight,” Jon repeated as he ran his finger through her hair. Happy to not let the weight of the world and the fate of the war come between their love.

Even if it was for only one night.


End file.
